Cataclysm
by Shade Penn
Summary: TF:P. Dark fic. None of them ever thought that their guardians would let anything happen to them, but that had been a year ago, and when Sam, Mikaela, and Miles are able to leave the asylum they were sent to, the last thing they want to do is see the Autobots. Too bad no one told them about the kids that had effectively replaced them.


_'How did this become our life?'_ Miles thought despairingly before a darker thought entered his mind. _'When the government found out that we were hanging around the Autobots, that's when.'_

The _Autobots_, this was all _their_ fault, they didn't do anything to try and stop the government agents from taking them this mental asylum, might as well have been as though they _didn't_ spend two years together, becoming friends…

For the last year, he, Sam, and Mikaela had been stuck in this loony bin, and though they didn't start out crazy, there were already signs they had been affected by this environment.

Mikaela and him hadn't gotten along even _before_ being sent to asylum, but he'd admit that once he got past his animosity she was a fairly nice and reasonable person to be around, even if she did have something of a berserk button and loved to get into fights.

Now though it was like she was a completely different person, all in the familiar appearance of a beautiful girl. Her berserk button had gone into a full hair trigger temper so that _anything_ set her off, and disturbing enough, she and Sam had been together, but now their relationship had fallen apart and almost seemed to hate each other.

It didn't help that whenever he tried to intervene that their new hobby seemed to be yelling at _him_ for even trying; he was keeping them together, even at the cost of his fragile nerves.

And Sam, his best bud since he met that Camaro and made Miles take the figurative back seat; he'd been a smart if somewhat lazy guy, and now…now it was like he didn't even know him. He'd become paranoid and was constantly arguing with Mikaela whenever they all were forced to be in a room together for the group sessions.

And worst off it was _Sam_ that had held them together before this all had happened as Miles and Mikaela hadn't gotten along. And now _that_ was turned on its head.

And then there was Miles himself. Beforehand he was just a lively teenager trying to get a date on Friday night and barring that, spending it with his best bud. Now though whenever Miles looked into a mirror, he couldn't believe the person staring back at him had once been that person.

Now he was just a husk of what he'd once been; a doormat that he's only friends left used to keep them together now, because while Sam and Mikaela had a very hate-hate thing going on with each other, they didn't _want_ any of them to get separated, even though in actually speaking up it caused them both to yell at the blond.

But the one thing that went past all their psychoses was their overwhelming _hatred_ of the Autobots and the government. The government _for_ taking them from their homes and putting them in this loony bin, and the Autobots for _letting_ them do it.

Granted, they wouldn't actively go against either one because it'd be stupid, but if _they_ did anything _else_…

Miles was dimly aware that the drugs that had been keeping him sedated start to wear off even more, though he could feel the straps on his forearms still holding him down to keep him from hurting himself even further. Even now he could remember himself picking that piece of glass from the mirror he'd shattered after reading the letter his parent's had sent him.

A goodbye letter.

Miles remembered Mr. and Mrs. Witwicky coming to see Sam during visiting the visiting hours, both looking pained at how their son was changing, but at the end, Sam seemed to be for a moment like the old one, and Miles assumed that's the reason they keep returning.

It's because Sam is still there, somewhere deep down behind all the hurt and betrayal.

Miles knew that Mikaela's dad was still in prison, but he'd seen the letters she received and sent back, all the while keeping her face blank, not allowing her face to convey the emotion in the letters she wrote back, no doubt telling him that she was fine and there was no reason to worry.

Even back when Miles could express his disdain for Mikaela he'd admitted she was a strong person, always keeping up her front to avoid letting others see the pain she must really be feeling. She was strong, and what was Miles?

He was _weak_.

Not _ever_ had his parents come to visit him like Sam or send letter's like Mikaela's father. His own parents had basically ignored his existence now, as though it was _Miles'_ fault for ending up in here. It really hadn't been, but they had never come by for him to explain that.

And through the entirety of the year the three of them had been here, his own growing depression had risen to the point where the only letter his parents sent him broke the camel's back. Why? _Because it was a fucking goodbye letter that's why!_

They didn't want anything more to do with him, they had moved away so that _should_ he ever be allowed to leave the asylum he wouldn't be able to find them. They tried to explain how they couldn't handle him being locked away like some kind of animal and expecting him to come out the same.

Well, they were _right_ and it _hurt._

So Miles had smashed the mirror in the bathroom, and with an eerie calmness, had put the shard to each wrist…

The blond heard the door creaking open and it brought him out of his stupor even more. He lifted his head and saw a head of short brown hair peek in before a pair of suspicion-ridden green eyes darted around the room before a body in sweat pants and a t-shirt came in.

"Sam? How did you get in here?" Miles asked as he was pretty sure the door was locked.

Sam looked at him darkly. "Be quiet!" he hissed in a whisper and Miles reminded himself once again that it was better not to speak and that the other teen would just explain himself. "I snatched a card from one of the orderlies; we're all 18 now, so they can't keep us here anymore because the government has no more say. Though we have to be quiet because they're still watching us."

Miles vaguely remembered that his birthday wasn't until _tomorrow_. "But I'm still 17."

Sam gave him a look that expressed a certain disgust over his stupidity. "Tomorrow _is_ today."

"Oh." Miles replied and didn't bother trying to defend himself by saying that since he was drugged up and out cold for who knew how long that his perception of what day it was had been skewered. So instead of that he just accepted it as Sam walked over to untie the straps holding him down.

To Miles it seemed unlikely they were going to let _him_ leave after what he tried to do, and if he wasn't afraid of making Sam or Mikaela upset, he probably wouldn't blame them. But as it were, he just hoped that what Sam said about them being able to leave was true.

Miles sat up of his of volition because he knew Sam wouldn't touch him if he could help it and even as he was untying the straps he looked like he'd rather not do it. The blond got off the cot and wobbled for a moment as he steadied his equilibrium and walked behind Miles so he could keep looking over his shoulder and not have anyone blocking his sight.

They both found Mikaela wearing pants and a t-shirt as well, so Miles assumed that it was the only clothes they were allowed to wear. The girl shoved the same type of clothes into his arms. "Change into these and make it quick." She said grumpily.

Miles flushed in self-consciousness. Right here in front of them both? "Here?" he asked quietly.

Mikaela just glared at him and Miles glanced back at Sam, who didn't seem too interested in answering anything. The blond tried not to gulp as he pulled the scrub shirt off and put the clean one on, and then the pants next. His face was bright red by the end of it and Mikaela turned on her heel the next moment, Miles nearly tripping over himself to keep up.

Since he was in the middle, it put more pressure on him to act like they wanted him too. And how they wanted him to act at this moment was to keep up and out of their way.

After all, just because the blonde's friends used him to keep the three of them together didn't mean they liked it much when he spoke back to them.

So Miles kept his mouth shut and tried to appear as small as possible as they filled out the paperwork and were watched suspiciously as they walked out the glass door, but no one made a move to stop them.

It seemed they knew too that they _couldn't_ stop them.


End file.
